


Wanting What You Can't Have

by ddelusionall



Category: JYJ (Band)
Genre: Band Fic, Dom/sub, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, POV First Person, Reader-Insert, Secret Relationship, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-10
Updated: 2011-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23930059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddelusionall/pseuds/ddelusionall
Summary: I get to be Park Yoochun's girlfriend. Sort of.
Relationships: Kim Jaejoong/Park Yoochun, Park Yoochun/Reader





	Wanting What You Can't Have

**Author's Note:**

> I am importing my stories from LiveJournal. The original fic can be found [here](https://be-ddelusionall.livejournal.com/).
> 
> I haven't read this story in a long time, so I may have missed some tags. Just let me know if I did.

When my cousin came to me and asked me if I wanted to pretend to be Park Yoochun’s girlfriend, I laughed at him.

“You’re kidding?”

“I’m not kidding. Look, one of my friends is friends with Yoohwan’s cousin, and he said that Yoochun needs a fake girlfriend, and you like them, so I thought of you.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”

Two weeks later, when I got a call from Park Yoochun I almost wet my panties, and not with pee. I met him that night for an interview and my brain was so clouded with _oh my god I’m having coffee with Park Yoochun_ that I have no idea what I said. But it went well because the very next weekend, I was suddenly Park Yoochun’s girlfriend.

For the papers and for the fangirls anyway. It was a scandal since I’m not Korean, but oh my god, I was Park Yoochun’s girlfriend.

Within the first week, I learned two things: 1 - Park Yoochun is gay, and 2 - You do NOT touch what belongs to Kim Jaejoong.

When I first met Kim Jaejoong, I did wet my panties. Sloppy, sexy wet, because _oh fuck my pussy harder_ Kim Jaejoong is even more amazing in person than he is in pictures. I’ve seen DongBangShinKi in concert. Seen every JYJ concert in Seoul, but Kim Jaejoong is even more amazing in PERSON than he is on stage.

He did not shake my hand and he did not bow when Yoochun introduced us. He pinned me silent with that cold, angelic, pissed off look that he has perfected over the years. My knees shook. I gaped like a fish. I loved Park Yoochun, but Kim Jaejoong was my dream when I was asleep, my dream when I was awake, and the name I shouted out when I had a dildo shoved in my pussy and fingers on my clit.

Jaejoong did not pretend to have a girlfriend, but he knew the importance of keeping up an image so he allowed Yoochun to do so, but as that pretend girlfriend, I was not allowed to touch him, or to kiss him or to do anything to him unless Yoochun initiated it. He’d glared at Yoochun then, and I knew then that I was not getting any kisses from Yoochun. I’d be lucky if he ever held my hand. That night, I had four orgasms just thinking of everything behind that look he shot at Yoochun. Dominate, in control. And Yoochun’s smile, like they had this huge secret. I guess they did.

Things went great for two months. I “dated” Yoochun. We were photographed at the movies, at dinner. Fangirls were pretty mean though. I had to change my twitter name and close my Facebook. Vicious bitches. Some of the meaner ones followed me around and cursed me. But the paycheck was well worth it. I eventually met the other members, and Junsu was nice and religious, and Changmin tall and accepting, and Yunho leaderish and standoffish, but they were kind to me. I wondered if they were fucking each other too, but none of them gave anything away.

The hardest part of my job was the nights I stayed over at Yoochun’s house. I slept on his couch, and listened to him and Jaejoong fuck in the bedroom. Such a hardship, I know. As I lay there listening to them, fingers between my legs, I imagined it was me getting fucked by Jaejoong. God, I wanted it. I wanted him.

And then Jaejoong noticed. He noticed that it was him I stared at, not Yoochun. It was him I lusted after, and he shoved it in my face every chance I got.

I’d receive a text from Yoochun telling me to come over, and I would and I’d find them half naked on the couch, Yoochun begging to be fucked. I’d have to sit there while Jaejoong led him to the bedroom. Jaejoong wore less clothes, showing off his body while I was there, and Yoochun smirked because obviously Jaejoong had told him what was going on. Oh, god, I wanted him.

The worst night was the night I was laying on the couch. My pussy had been wet since I walked through the door and caught them with Yoochun completely naked on his knees, mouthing Jaejoong’s erection through sweat pants. Jaejoong leered at me, said, “Time for bed,” and with a necktie, led a crawling Yoochun to the bedroom. I had my pants around my ankles in about thirty seconds.

And then a few minutes later, Jaejoong came out of the room, catching me masturbating to the two of them. I didn’t care. He was wearing blue briefs. Tight, tight briefs, his erection on display, the fabric wet from precome or Yoochun’s mouth, I didn’t care. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it, and my fingers kept moving. He went to the kitchen, and came back with a bowl full of ice cubes. Right to me, so his crotch was almost in my face. God, I’d never moved my fingers that fast over me. An ice cube pressed against my lips. I moaned and opened my mouth for it.

Jaejoong teased my lips with it, and then smirked. He pulled away and popped the ice cube in his mouth. “Closest you’ll ever get, you slut.” And then he turned around and walked into the bedroom. I came five times listening to Yoochun being tortured with those ice cubes.

A few weeks after that incident, and a few more, (including the one where Jaejoong had come out of the bedroom covered in come, and flicked some of it on me before going to the kitchen), Yoochun took me out to dinner. I should have known something was wrong, because he was attentive and touchy feely, and I didn’t care. Because yes, I wanted Jaejoong to fuck me, but I wasn ’t going to say no to Park Yoochun.

He kissed me, really really kissed me, a tongue plundering my mouth, hands wandering over my body as we took the elevator up to his apartment. He slammed me against the wall next to his door and said, “Jaejoong is visiting his family. I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Yeah, I was not going to say no to Park Yoochun.

We fell through his door, kicking shoes off and god, I didn’t even care when he called me a slut, whispered it in my ear as his fingers unbuttoned my shirt. He walked us backwards and twisted my nipple between two fingers. I was naked by the time we made it to his bedroom, a trail of clothes along the floor. His shirt was undone, his chest on display. He practically threw me to the bed with a laugh.

“Such an eager slut,” he said as he crawled over me.

I moaned, legs spreading. He didn’t touch me, just hands and knees over me. But he kissed me, starting at my shoulder, working his way up my neck. My eyes fluttered shut and then flew open as cloth trailed over my face. His necktie.

“Let me tie you up,” he said, voice low, and it made my body quake. I’d gotten off just listening to him rap before. I was about to get off without him even touching me.

“Please, god, please,” I moaned, and lifted my hands above my head.

He took the tie and looped it around my head first, shoving the cloth in my mouth. I bit down as he used the long end to tie my hands to the headboard. And then my world floated away, eyes shut as he kissed along my neck again. His hand cupped my breast, fingers rolling my nipple harshly.

“That’s enough.”

The voice permeated the fuzz in my brain. And I gasped late, because that was Jaejoong’s voice. A very pissed off Jaejoong.

Yoochun immediately froze as he was, straddling me, face just above mine.

I looked around the room. Jaejoong stood by the door, clothed in blue jeans and a blue shirt, unbuttoned, showing off his chest and stomach.

“Really, slut, did you think that Yoochun would fuck you?”

It still took a few more minutes for me to understand that they tricked me.

“Who do you belong to?” Jaejoong asked.

Yoochun shut his eyes with a shiver. “You, Master Jaejoong.”

“That’s right. Strip. Now.”

Yoochun didn’t move away from me. He sat back on my legs and pulled off his shirt. My mouth watered around the gag, and I whimpered, moaning as he unbuttoned his jeans. He pushed them down and then used his hands to balance himself over me as he finished kicking them off. Again, he didn’t touch me.

A belt whooshed through belt loops. Yoochun shivered, eyes shut and moaned in utter anticipation.

But other than that, Jaejoong did not take any clothes off. He let the belt trail up my leg and then over Yoochun’s back. Yoochun shivered again and whispered, “Please.”

Liquid dripped onto my stomach. Yoochun was hard, leaking precome already. Not that I was any better. Because fuck, I wasn’t getting fucked, but Yoochun was. I could feel how wet the sheets were below me.

The belt slapped against Yoochun’s skin suddenly and he yelped, eyes flying open.

“Who are you hard for, Yoochun?” Jaejoong asked.

“You, Master.”

“Not the slut underneath you?”

“N-no, Master.”

“And yet, this was your idea, why?”

Yoochun whimpered as Jaejoong whipped him again.

“Why did you want to do this?”

“She … she wants you, Master.”

“Yes, and, tell her.”

Yoochun met my eyes, barely wincing as another strike landed against his skin. “Master is mine.”

“That’s right. And even if she wants me to fuck her, I’m not going to. Why is that?”

“Because Master only fucks his bitch.”

“And who is my bitch?”

“I am, Master. I am.”

I managed to tear my eyes away from Yoochun’s and looked at Jaejoong’s smirk.

“Are you wet, slut?” he asked. “Are you aching for one of us to feel you? Yoochun, find out.”

“M-mast--” He broke off with a yelp as the belt landed on him again.

“Touch her.”

I moaned as Yoochun’s fingers slipped over my wet cunt.

“She’s … wet,” Yoochun said.

 _Just, higher, a bit … god, touch my clit, Yoochun._ His fingers moved away and I moaned in disappointment.

“Such a slut. Should I tell Yoochun to fuck you? He would.”

Yoochun whimpered.

“Yes?” Jaejoong said. “You don’t want to?”

“N-no, Master. Please, no.”

“Why not?”

“Only you touch me, only you kiss me, only you fuck me.”

“That’s true,” Jaejoong said, “but what about you?”

“No, no. I don’t. She … please, don’t make me.”

_God, Yoochun, tell me how you really feel._

Jaejoong finally crawled up on the bed. He ran a soft hand over Yoochun’s back, and Yoochun moaned, still whimpering. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m not going to make you fuck her. She’d like that, and this isn’t about that. I definitely don’t want to do anything she’d like.”

“Thank you, Master.”

Jaejoong turned Yoochun’s head and they kissed. I moaned as I watched their tongues tangle. Jaejoong’s fingers wrapped around Yoochun’s cock, stroking slowly. More precome dripped onto my stomach. Just a touch, a tiny rub on my clit and I would have came. My body was tight with need, so wet and aching. I whimpered and saw Jaejoong smirk into the kiss.

He kissed Yoochun for a long time, ignoring my pleadings. And then I lifted my leg, trying to put it around Yoochun’s naked body.

Jaejoong jerked away from Yoochun and froze me with a glare. “Don’t touch him. He is not yours.”

Yoochun smiled and rubbed his cheek on Jaejoong’s shoulder. “Yours, Master.”

“Mine,” Jaejoong growled to me as his fingers tangled in Yoochun’s long hair. He moved away, and then kneeled behind Yoochun, his body blocked from my view. Yoochun moaned though.

“You like that, Yoochun?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Tell her. Tell her what I’m doing to you.”

“Fuck … he’s … sliding his cock over my entrance.”

I moaned and tried to lift my hips to touch something against Yoochun’s body.

“You wish it was you,” Jaejoong said, meeting my eyes. “You wish I was slipping my cock through your wetness, teasing your clit and pushing into you.”

I begged behind the gag and he laughed.

Yoochun moaned, head lowering.

“Tell her,” Jaejoong said and slapped Yoochun’s ass.

“He … he’s pushing his … cock, fuck, Master. Please. Please.”

“Tell her.”

“His cock is, pushing … into me. So slow.”

I whined and tugged on the tie.

“He’s so tight,” Jaejoong said, voice rasping. “No prep. I love taking him without prep. His ass is tighter than your pussy would ever be, you slut.”

“So full, Master,” Yoochun whined, and his hips shifted.

Jaejoong smiled and ran his hands softly though Yoochun’s hair. “You like it like this, baby?”

“Yes, fuck, yes. Please fuck me, Master.”

When Jaejoong moved, and Yoochun cried out, my mind went away. Jaejoong fucked him hard, their bodies slapping together, accented by Yoochun’s moans of “master, harder, harder, please.”

I whined with them, able to lift my hips enough to touch my stomach to Yoochun’s cock, but Jaejoong saw and ordered Yoochun to hold me down. His hands gripped my hips, fingernails digging into my skin as Jaejoong sped up, pushing Yoochun closer to orgasm just with his cock. God, I wanted it. I wanted to be Yoochun so much.

It was over so soon, too soon, but it felt like forever at the same time. Yoochun’s hair stuck to his face as he started sweating. His mouth stayed open, tongue out, head back as Jaejoong fucked him. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed and sweat pooled and dripped over his collarbones. His cock jerked with every thrust and the precome on my skin doubled.

“Come, Yoochun. Come all over her.”

I moaned, trying to move. The heat in the room made my skin slick with sweat, too.

“M-master! Master, please … I … don’t …”

“Come, Yoochun.”

Yoochun moaned, head falling forward. His mouth opened in a silent scream, eyes blown with lust as his body jerked and _heat wet sticky_ splattered on my stomach and breasts. Without giving him time to recover, Jaejoong yanked Yoochun away from me. He shoved Yoochun off the bed and slapped his ass. “Bathroom, now. I’ll finish fucking you in the shower.”

Yoochun fell to his hands and knees and gingerly crawled across the room.

Jaejoong stared at me, eyes cutting me open, and my skin flushed, because it was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. I wanted to see his cock, but he was turned, twisted so I couldn’t. I whimpered.

He slid a hand up my inner thigh, and I whined, eyes shutting, biting down on the gag. As soon as his fingertip touched my pussy, I came hard, shuddering, tightening, screaming.

“Consider your relationship with Park Yoochun over. Gather whatever pride you have left and get the fuck out.”

He removed the tie from my wrists and then without even looking back, went to the bathroom.

Pride? Fuck what was that? I scooped up Yoochun’s come with my fingers and licked them clean. Moaning, and then I fingered myself, listening to Yoochun cry and apologize for touching me, until I came again. I knew from experience that they wouldn’t be done for another couple hours.

I waited, listening to them while my body recovered from the best orgasm I’d had in my life. I doubted future boyfriends would get me to come has hard as I did when Jaejoong touched me.

As soon as the shower started, I stood up and followed the trail of clothes down the hall, dressing slowly. Jaejoong may have done that to teach me a lesson, but it’s not one I learned. God, that was hot. I was going to have to finger myself in the taxi on the way to my apartment, and then again and again and again when I got to my own bed. Someone was going to have to come in my room and drag my fingers away from myself, because I was going to masturbate until it killed me.

I kept Yoochun’s tie.


End file.
